It Aint Easy Loving You
by ELSIE-CHAN
Summary: A humorous autobiography of the life of Bulma Briefs


Hi! My name is Elsie and this is my fic. It's a B/V romance set from the 'three-years' to the BUU saga. It's all pretty much told in past tense first person, so it's going to feel as though I (the author) am talking to you. It's actually Bulma (DUH, LOL). You might recognize my writing style…I used to write under a different name. Let me know if you think you have it. Should be fun to see the guesses ^-^

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*~*~*~*~* It Ain't Easy Loving You *~**~*~*~*~*

MINI PROLOGUE: Hello. My name is Bulma Briefs. You can call me Princess Bulma. Just joking with you. Please call me Bulma. You've undoubtedly heard of me before. I own Capsule Corporation and we're in the papers much of the time. If you haven't heard of me you've heard of my son, Trunks. He won the junior division martial arts tournament. If you haven't heard of my son, then you've probably seen my husband (and I use that word lightly). He was one of those 'cheap tricksters' from the Cell Games. Anyway, if you've never heard of me, or my hubby or my little monster, than you are reading the wrong autobiography. I know there are many biographies of my life out there, but there are few that actually depict my life with quite the same detail and insight that I can give to it. Please sit down, put up your feet. Would you like some tea? I hope you brought some of your own because I hate tea. How about some cappuccino and onion bagels? Make yourself at home, because I'm going to give you the story of my life.

*~*~*~*~* _CHAPTER ONE_

Most people start at the very beginning when writing an autobiography. My name is not 'Most People'; it's Bulma Briefs. I'm going to start at a spot I feel is important. I may go into my younger years, it all depends on whether or not I find the need to disclose that information. I believe most of my younger life is unimportant though, so I won't bore you with too many details.

**Looking back, I'd have to say that all the REAL excitement in my life started on the day Goku came back to earth after defeating Freeza.

Yamcha and I were getting along (if you want to call that). We could tolerate each other's company at least…in moderation.

Anyway, after the 'gang' shot down my **brilliant** idea of killing Gero, (so what if it was brutal? Life isn't all smiley face stickers and ponies jumping over rainbows) Goku left and said he hoped I'd have a healthy baby. I cursed inwardly, that was just what Yamcha would use to try his 'hey-babe-everyone-thinks-we-should-get-together-and-have-a-family-so-why-don't-we-already?' line again. He proceeded to make a complete and utter fool of himself, saying that Goku was giving us his blessing in settling down. Yeah, sure, and I'm an one-legged kick-boxing kangaroo named Charlie.

I reluctantly went home that afternoon. I actually wanted to go see Chichi, but I wanted her and Goku to have some privacy and some time together. After all, if I hadn't seen my husband in such a long time, I'd want some private alone time with him…if you know what I mean…

I walked into the house, only to find the 'I-am-Holier-than-thou-art' Almighty Prince of Saiyans. I swear, for such a short guy (in comparison with Goku, he's taller than me) he has an **enormous** ego.

I wasn't in the mood for him or his BS, so I pointedly ignored him. I sat in the corner of the couch farthest from him and turned the TV to "The Bold and The Beautiful". For the 1,000,000th time, I swear that show was named for me. I never really pay attention to the story-line or the characters, but I love to watch the romantic scenes, probably because my life lacks that kind of thing. Luckily for me, Brandon and Cecelia are about to give each other a long romantic kiss (you know, the kind you dream about, yet when you try it in real life, you are left gasping for breath, soaked in drool, and devastatingly disappointed). I jumped as the TV went off and spun on my heel, ready to unleash my fury on whoever dared touch the remote during "Bulma's story-time". Of course, it was none other than Vegeta (surprised?) My mouth shut, unwilling to get into yet another verbal dispute with him.

"Stop drooling over that sentimental crap and make my lunch," Vegeta demanded.

I stalked past him to the kitchen, but only after sending him a sarcastic reply. "Well sure Vegeta! I'd **love to!** Especially after you asked me **so nicely**!"

About an hour later, after slaving over a hot stove, I sat down to eat with the baka prince. I still can't fathom how one person can eat **so** much. He finished his meal at about the same time as me (the scary thing is he ate about 20X what I did, if not more). Curious to gauge his reaction, I asked Vegeta to wash the dishes since I cooked his lunch. I STILL haven't forgotten what he said next. His exact words were: "Me? The Prince of all Saiyans? Washing dishes is the job of a lowly female like yourself," he snorted, a smirk on his handsome face.

Have you ever been caught standing in the path of a hurricane or a tornado? Or maybe a train? Trust me, that was **nothing** compared to what Vegeta got. I only vaguely remember what I yelled at him; it seemed to me like I was screaming for hours, but a far-off neighbor informed me that it was only a minute. 

I soon ran out of steam after that, and concluded my raving with what I call a "Vegeta Killer" (I call it that because he can't do anything about it; it's usually true, and it almost always ends the argument in my favor). I said (in a perfectly calm, collected voice) "Well, now that I think about it you're right Vegeta. Washing dishes **is** a woman's job." I pause for dramatic effect as his smirk disappears. "After all," I continue "washing dishes is complicated and a _man_ wouldn't be able to handle it, much less a Saiyan and especially not the Saiyan Prince."

Vegeta scowled at me. "You'll regret that remark woman."  


I laughed at him standing and putting my palms on the table. "I doubt it. Unless you're planning something in that empty head of yours."

Vegeta stood also and glared at me. "You will **not** get away with insulting my race."

I rolled my eyes at his threat. "Oh please Vegeta. You haven't got two brain cells to rub together. What makes you think I'm afraid of anything you could do to me?" Wrong thing to say.

He grinned savagely then threw the table (which was previously bolted to the floor) that was between us to the side and stepped closer to me. I confess, I was trembling at this point. Thoughts of the homicidal/genocidal maniac I dreamed of on Namek only came back to haunt me then and I kicked myself for letting him stay in my house. I would have fainted in fright then, but I've never fainted in all of my life (well, that's not exactly true, I've fainted once before, but that's MUCH later). I closed my eyes and waited for the end to come. It didn't. Instead his voice (which sounded as though it was behind me) met my ear. "In answer to your question woman: let's just say I have a feeling."

I opened my eyes and he was gone. _Note to self: Vegeta's **really** sensitive about his race and his title._

After that delightful experience (note the sarcasm) I decided to call Yamcha for a night out (hell, a stale night with him was better than anything with Vegeta…or so I thought). 

Yamcha said: "Sure Bulma! I'd be more than happy to do that with you." 

Yeah I bet. Anyway, we went out and played miniature golf (don't ask me who won, because I won't tell you) watched some stupid action movie Yamcha wanted to see and finally went to La Chez Pierre Amore (don't be fooled by the fancy French name). La Chez Pierre Amore is the nastiest little hellhole I have ever had the misfortune of encountering.. If your boyfriend/girlfriend EVER suggests you go there, run away. FAST. And don't look back, trust me. 

As you can plainly see, 'twas a night to die for (once again, note the sarcasm). Yamcha was having fun though (either that, or he was a better actor than I gave him credit for) so I tried not to be a wet blanket. I didn't order anything to eat (I don't have a death wish for God's sake). As Yamcha ate (very neatly and normally) I blurted something I'd been wanting to say for a long time. 

"Yamcha, ever since that affair you had a while ago, things have been gong steadily downhill. I think it'd be better if we just sever the relationship entirely, instead of trying to piece it together again. We can still be friends though." As I said the last sentence, I put a hand on his arm, to let him know I didn't hate him.

His eyes looked into my own and begged me to reconsider. "But Bulma, I've worked so hard and I've been faithful ever since then." 

"I know, I know. I just don't have any feelings for you anymore. I'm so sorry."

Yamcha put his fork down and sighed. I swear, the aura of stupidity he was previously emitting just completely disappeared. "I knew this would happen sooner or later. I just hoped it was just my imagination that we were drifting further and further apart." He said dejectedly.

I don't like to think about what happened for the rest of the evening, even now. I'll just sum it up: Yamcha was miserable, I was glad I'd finally ended it, but I felt guilty at the same time for the pain I was obviously causing him. He dropped me off at home not long afterward. I was never so glad to be home. It was probably about ten and my parents were gone, so I knew Vegeta didn't have any dinner. I made steak with mashed potatoes that night. The only reason why I remember is because I took great joy in mashing the potatoes and tenderizing the steak. Anyway, I guess he was still training, so I left his dinner at the table and went to bed, not in the mood to deal with him.

I woke up the next morning to find the steak and potatoes gone. I let the robots clean the dishes that morning. I took a few boxes of cereal and a couple of gallons of milk out and put them on the table. I was in my dark blue robe and slippers, as I am every morning before breakfast. I plopped down on the couch and turned the TV to "As the World Turns". I became so engrossed in the show that when Vegeta slammed the door shut, I jumped about a foot in the air. I'm sure he was smirking at that, but I didn't look at him to see. I frowned and turned the television up to let him know I didn't want to talk to him. I watched Ken kiss Denise (Denise was actually engaged to be married to Sean) and sighed contentedly as he promised his ever-growing, undying love and devotion to her, even as the gagged Sean watched, outraged.

A loud (and extremely rude) voice broke through Ken's vows, "Woman!"

"Saiyan!" I said back to him, putting my feet up on the cushions next to me.

"Where's breakfast?" he growled, ignoring my witty reply.

Angry, I got up from the couch and flounced to the table. The Prince sat impatiently in his seat, waiting for me to serve him. I lock my eyes on his and open a box of cereal and the milk. I slam the bowl and spoon in front of him and poured the cereal, then the milk.

"You think you can handle the rest of this alone Vegeta or do you require assistance?" I asked in my most sarcastic tone.

His black eyes never wavered, never blinked. He didn't say a word, which scared me more than if he had said something. Of course, what I didn't know what that he was unused to being treated in such an aggressive manner by a woman (let me be the first to tell you that yes, Bulma Briefs is aggressive. Deal with it). "What's bothering you?" I asked into the silence.

"You are," he growled.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh for the love of Kami," I muttered under my breath, flopping back onto the couch in defeat. I snuggled into the cushions and was soon sound-asleep.

I don't remember what I was dreaming about (I'm not even sure I **want** to know) but I know I woke up screaming and crying and reaching out blindly, saying, 'hold me, hold me' over and over. Weird right? Anyway, Vegeta was long gone (I could tell from the empty dishes and containers at the table. You weren't expecting a tender Kodak moment between us were you? I hope not) so I dragged myself upstairs to take a long **hot** shower. Wouldn't you know it, no sooner had I just rinsed the shampoo from my hair, the phone rang. I scurried out of the shower, quickly grabbing a towel on my way out and pulling it around me. I knew it wouldn't be long until the person gave up and hung up the phone. I **used to** have an answering machine that beeped each time I had a message, but that got on Vegeta's nerves and he blew it up (I should add that to his growing tab. He probably owes me at least a million in food alone).

I snatched the phone from the receiver, panting a little. "Moshi moshi."

Silence, then I heard a voice. "Bulma-chan? This is Yamcha." He paused and I could just hear the suspicion creeping into his voice. "What's going on over there?"

I rolled my eyes and tightened my towel around my body. "I'm not **you** Yamcha, having sex like there's no tomorrow with any person I come across. I was taking a shower and I had to run to answer the phone."

Brief silence from Yamcha's end of the phone. "Sorry." He didn't deny the accusation I noted. "So…where are your parents? Why didn't they answer the phone?"

I studied my nails (a much nicer subject than Yamcha I'm sure) and answered in a voice that neither disguised my reluctance to be on the phone nor my irritation with him. "They're vacationing in the States, I told you that Yamcha." I said his name as if it was a curse.

He didn't seem to notice. "You're _alone_ with Vegeta at Capsule Corp? That's not right! Aren't you scared Bulma?"

I lost interest in my nails and growled. "Listen here bakayarou: what I do or don't do with Vegeta or anyone else for that matter, is none of your business! We're finished, remember? And you should know by now that I'm not afraid of anything, you jerk. So why don't you screw yourself." I slammed the phone down and stalked into my room, all thoughts of showering long gone. Thanks to my (can I really call him mine? He never **truly** belonged solely to me) ex, I lost all happy thoughts pertaining to relaxing in a shower or anywhere else. I threw the towel to the floor and rummaged in my dresser for some clothes.

About 47 minutes later and beauty personified stepped out of that same room. I thought about straightening my hair, but finally opted to leave it. I think I was wearing either a navy blue or a sea green short dress with a plunging neckline, along with black platforms. I grabbed a matching purse, tossed in some cosmetics, change, my driving license, my wallet, my Capsule Corp business cards (a successful businesswoman never takes a break from work) and my credit cards (a little advice from me to you: Don't even THINK about leaving home with out one). I walked out the back door then promptly back into the house as I quickly grabbed my keys. 

I thought about leaving him here, but I figured it was better and safer to bring him with me and not leave him alone. I calmly and coolly ran (an oxymoron if I've ever heard one) up to the door of the gravity machine. I knocked loudly, going over my plan in my head (they don't call me a genius for nothing) as I heard the diminishing whir as the gravity set itself back to normal. An angry Saiyan immerged (along with the smell from his workout; not unpleasant, just distinctively masculine, and just in case you wanted to know a maximum turn-on for me). His eyes were unreadable to me at the time, so I don't know what he must have been thinking as he saw me standing there in all of my glory. I took a deep breath, forcing my eyes away from the beads of sweat on his bare sculpted chest. I turned my wants into frustration, and then my frustration into anger as I spoke. "Listen Vegeta; I'm sick and tired of Chichi telling me how poorly I keep a guest of my home. For crying out loud, everyone says Goku dresses better than you do. Get dressed and we'll go shopping."

Vegeta's face remained blank, then he looked amused, and finally he scowled darkly. "Only a stupid bitch like that harpy female would think Kakkarot dresses better than I do."

I shrugged my shoulders and tried to look as if that was **exactly** what I was thinking. "We'll show them Vegeta. Let's go!"

Looking back, I **know** now that Vegeta was only toying with me. He allowed me an hour to get him clothes before he left. No amount of pleading, curses, threats, or tears could make him stay (no, I didn't cry, I probably should have though). I whole-heartedly agree with Vegeta when it comes to one thing he has an excellent eye for what clothes look good on him (he'd look good entirely without clothes is probably what you're thinking. You're right). I was having fun, even though Vegeta basically said nothing. I'd point to something and he'd either scowl or do nothing to indicate whether or not he wanted something. I remember I picked up a pink and purple shirt (as a joke) and raised my eyebrows at him. His face was so utterly disgusted (I guess he was imagining himself wearing that thing, or maybe it reminded him of his BADMAN shirt) that I couldn't keep myself from laughing. An elderly lady shopping down the aisle smiled at us, and I can just imagine what she was thinking; _aren't they a cute couple?_ Kami, if Vegeta knew that's what we looked like, I think he would have either blown up that woman, blasted me, or left. 55 minutes and we had a good amount of clothes for the Prince. I didn't really know how long he was actually going to stay at my house, at least 3 years, but what if he lived after the Androids? Would he still want to live at Capsule Corp? I tried to ignore the dazed look on the checker at the register (he had the misfortune later of being in Vegeta's walkway and almost received a blast to his head to go along with the tongue lashing). I capsulated the bags and pocketed them. 

My credit card holding palm was still itchy after all that. Vegeta left (without telling me). So, after raiding the women's clothing department stores, I was finally exhausted. It only took four hours. It usually takes longer than that for me to get out of a slump.

I drove myself home (I was kind of shocked still that Vegeta actually rode in the car with me on the way there. Amazing) and upon arrival burst through the unlocked door of the Capsule Corp to find Yamcha dangerously close to death in the form of Vegeta, who was rapidly losing his temper, I could tell. Yamcha grinned as he saw me. "What's up Bulma?"

"Get off my property Yamcha," I ordered, putting my keys away.

Yamcha looked torn between his desire to pursue me and his desire to avoid Vegeta's wrath. He chose to live and he finally left. I sighed and put the capsules on the countertop, separating mine from Vegeta's. I yawned in exhaustion, hoping I could go to sleep.

"Vegeta; please tell me you've already eaten."

Vegeta sat at the table silently in answer and I groaned inwardly. I dialed a few pizza places (variety is the spice of life. Besides, who knows which kind of pizza the royal asshole will like). I went upstairs and changed into my flannel pajamas (the weatherman said it was going to be 80 degrees, so that means it's really going to be 55 or 60). I left the top three buttons undone (no, I wasn't trying to seduce the Saiyan Prince. It was hot in the room…okay I'm lying. Am I bad or am I bad?) just to let sweet little innocent Vegeta know what I have (if he hasn't noticed by now, he has to be blind…or brain-dead is what I was thinking). I jumped from the last stair and darted to my purse to get my checkbook as I heard the doorbell ring. It was Papa Johns. I gave the smiling young woman the money for the pizza and a $20 tip. Tips **aren't** required you know. Consider that before you reprimand me for what I'm about to do. Pizza Hut left my house with a $5 tip, Little Caesar's got $1 and Domino's got NOTHING. I've got high expectations for myself and those in anyway associated with me. Mediocrity and sub-standard work from a pizza company, will NOT be tolerated. 

Anyway, I took a few pieces of each kind (pepperoni, cheese, sausage but NOT anchovy I didn't even order it actually) and Vegeta got the rest. I ate at the table that night, even as Vegeta continued to eat and I was done. I admire him (not for his eating capabilities!). Did he notice? If so, he gave no sign. He finally finished the last slice and got up from the table. I found myself putting a hand out to stop him. "Wait. Can I talk to you for a minute Vegeta?"

He growled in annoyance, but sat down, muttering something about stupid women and their incessant chatter, and how their blabbering gets in the way of training.

Luckily for him, I chose to ignore this remark. "Vegeta, I wanted to tell you something. I lied about what Chichi supposedly said about your clothes. I just wanted to take you out for a fun day but it didn't exactly turn out right. Lying was the only way I could think of to get you out of training."  


Surprisingly, a smirk graced the Saiyan's face. "You actually thought I fell for that weak bull shit? I could see right through your ridiculous ploy woman."

I was momentarily stunned. "Then why'd you come?"

The Prince shrugged. "Why not?"

{SWEATDROP} "Oh. So…how are you?" I asked into the awkward silence that followed. (This conversation, however dumb it seems is VERY important. It's partly why I fell in love with the baka). 

He answered in a gruff, seemingly angry voice and looked as though he wished he could be anywhere but here at the table with me. "What business is it of yours?"

Frowning, and wondering if I had just heard hesitance in that deep sexy voice, I replied. "It wasn't at one point, but now that you live with me, in **my** house, I'm making it my business." I said this in a light tone and he reacted to it, like a dog to a human's loving touch (Don't make a parallel here, for God's sake, if Vegeta thought I was calling him a dog, he'd have an aneurysm. He hates canines for some reason).

"Why do you care?" He appeared perplexed. That's when the phone rang (excellent timing, as usual) and I stood looking into his onyx eyes.

"That's a good question and one that I can't answer right now." I ran as fast as I could in my bare feet and picked the phone up. It was my parents (both of them, on a speaker phone at first). They wanted to know how I was doing, how Capsule Corp was getting along, how was the sweet tempered guest (a joke) and how Yamcha and I were. I filled them in, omitting anything on Vegeta.

My mother, the woman who gave blondes a bad name, giggled and gave me some advice on how to get 'that sweetheart, Vegeta-kun' to desire me. How about some face-vaulting action, anime style? {FACEVAULT} There we go. Ok, so I recovered enough to let my mother know I'd keep that in mind (what else was I supposed to say? I couldn't call her crazy to her face; she's my mother…or so I've been told). She gave the phone over to my tousan, who told me that since I was doing so well on my own, he and Kasan would vacation for an additional week or so. I hung up after he finished grilling me on 'CC business', and sighed wearily. I forced myself up the stair for some much needed (and well-deserved) sleep.

*~*~*~*~*

End of Chapter One

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Please review me! I hope you liked it, I worked very hard on it. _If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask. Thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate it._


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